


Repercussion

by midnightsvoid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:01:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsvoid/pseuds/midnightsvoid
Summary: An aftermath of Cas' return after leaving Dean yet again.





	Repercussion

The clock ticks with each passing second, a steady thrum of _tick-tock, tick-tock._ With each second, Dean becomes more aware of the steady beat of his heart. Sweat trickles down his forehead, slow and perpetual and he makes no effort to wipe it.

He closes his eyes, puts pressure on them with his palm until their stinging with unshed tears.

_Another gulp._

The open bottle of Jim Beam stares at him from where it sits on his table; next to his lamp and he has the familiar urge to knock it out of his sight. To break something. Anything.

He feels a prickle on his neck, a cold shiver against the heat and then with a flap of wings Cas stands before him, stoic, immaculate, perfect and so much like the angel Dean had seen before the apocalypse.

“Dean,” he says, and it’s enough to break the image of faultless soldier that first met Dean.

But Dean pays no attention— or at least puts on a guise that he pays no attention—because he’s fucking angry at him. He takes another swallow, feeling the burn in his throat and relishes it.

“Dean,” Cas says again, this time moving forward. He takes the glass from his hand and Dean lets him, choosing to handle the situation sober—or at least partly sober.

“I’m sorry.” And the simmering range turns feral because in the next moment Dean is then standing, gripping Cas by the collar.

“You’re sorry?” he barks, and Cas’ gaze flicks towards the ground.

“Dean, I was only trying to do the right thing.” He murmurs, and then looks up with fleeting hesitancy. They’re too close, Dean assesses. Close enough for him to see the crow’s feet next to Cas’ eyes; the exhaustion and weariness on his face.

He steps back.

“Isn’t that always the case Cas?” Dean says instead and turns but Cas’ hand in on his arm, heavy and solid and Dean doesn’t want to admit that Cas’ presence grounds him; just as it makes him want to flee. He’s a walking contradiction, and his touch makes Dean feel sober and drunk at the same time.

He doesn’t want it to stop.

“I wanted to come back, come back home; come back to _you_.” He insists, stepping in front and waits for Dean’s eyes to settle on him.

Dean stares at him, swallowing the lump in his throat, because suddenly it’s all too dry. Finally, he croaks out, “Why didn’t you?”

Cas looks down, but Dean catches the scathing look, before he speaks, “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Cas—what?”

This time Cas, puts a hand his shoulder, “All these years Dean, all these years I have made one mistake after another and I can’t—I couldn’t atone for them no matter what I did. All I seemed to do was cause more trouble for you and Sam and I just wanted to come back with a win for you.

“After everything that I’ve done, I wanted to finally do something _right._ And _I—_ ” He shakes his head, smile wry, “—and yet again, I couldn’t do that. I just—”

“Damn it, Cas.” Dean interrupts him, running a hand against his face. “Why can’t you get this is through your head. I don’t fucking care if you succeed or not.” _I just want you here._

“You don’t understand.”

“I damn well understand. I get that, Cas, I get _you_.” He says, felling the surge of heat. The anger’s gone but it’s replaced with frustration. The frustration of what he’s been trying to tell Cas for years. Frustration, because he can’t say it outright and Cas won’t understand. And he’s fucking tired of it all, so that’s probably the reason why he keeps going.

“I don’t need you to bring me a fucking win Cas, I _just­_ —. I’ve forgiven you for all the times you’ve screwed up in the past. I don’t care about that. It’s water under the bridge. We’ve broken the fucking world before— _I started the frigging apocalypse_. We’ve made mistake but we’ve also dealt with them. And we’ve done it together.” He says, placing a hand on Cas’ shoulder and hoping he understands. “So I’m saying it again, Cas. I want you here with me _._ I need you.”

Cas’ is still, his eyes wide and there’s a flash of confusion before it settles and then he whispering out ‘ _Dean’_ as he moves his face closer and stops a hair’s breath away. And Dean’s brain registers; _he’s still giving me a fucking chance, an out. Goddamnit._

“Fuck, Cas.” He mutters and then his mouth is against Cas.

It feels like years of desire and unspoken words, being said all at once. It feels like the light, Dean reached out to in hell and the longing prayers Cas heard when he was away.

It’s slow and steady, at first; each press of their lips, soft and teasing. Cas licks his lips and he tastes like summer and grass after rain and Dean feels the warmth in his chest. He tugs his tie, messily and hurriedly and it escalates from there as Cas’ tongue effortlessly swipes into his mouth. Cas kisses him with a purpose Dean’s all too familiar with. His lips glide over his own, the slight sting of teeth against flesh, leaves Dean gasping for more.

Cas moves from Dean’s lips to his jaw, placing hot kisses while his hands trail over Dean’s body.

“Dean, Dean Dean…” he says, and it’s like a fucking mantra.

He feels the swell of Cas’ bulge where his thigh rests against Dean’s groin, heavy and pliant. His own legs move them both towards the bed. He settles Cas’ against the edge, pulling at his coat— _that ridiculous nerdy trench coat—_ and the blazer and then working his way through his buttons. He trails kisses down his collarbones, relishing every touch, every contact.

Cas’ finger trace at the skin, beneath his shirt and he shivers.

He takes a breath and moves to Cas’ pants, hands hesitant, he stops unsure.

 “Do you—?”

“Yes.” Cas agrees and Dean’s not sure what he’s agreeing to because he’s not even sure what he asked, but Cas pulls him towards himself, and joins their lips together, lapping at Dean’s bottom lip before kissing him again.

“I want you to know Cas; I’m not messing around with this.” Dean says, momentarily stopping to unzip Cas’ pants. “This is it for me.”

He feels Cas’ tense beneath him and it makes Dean’s heart beat faster but then Cas places his hands on Dean’s, “I don’t think I can go back to how things were before. This is it, for me too.”

The admission causes Dean to surge forward and he clasps their lips, “I’ve waited so long, Cas.” He says and ruts against him, the warmth pooling in his gut. Cas shudders against him, and gasps as the friction when his pants slide off, rubbing against his cock.

“I wanted you so bad, but I couldn’t. I didn’t think I deserve you, still don’t…” he whispers, because Cas needs to know. “I still think, you can do better than me, because you—I...” he fumbles with the words, shaking his head at himself.

“Dean,” Cas whispers, pulling at the arm Dean didn’t know he had covered his face with. “Dean, look at me.”

When Dean does, Cas moves from beneath him and flips them over, “I have existed longer than you can comprehend but even that doesn’t come close to the devotion, the _love,_ I feel for you.”

Dean closes his eyes as Cas brings his lips to the hollow of Dean’s neck whispering, “For years, Dean I’ve thought of you, I’ve thought of us, and it scared me because I never felt that way before. Angels aren’t supposed to feel. But you, Dean Winchester…” he breathes, “You make me feel so damn much. You’re infuriating, you’re frustrating but you’re also selfless and brave and compassionate and forgiving and you forgave me after all the terrible things I’ve done, the things even I don’t think I can forgive myself for. I can’t do better than you, because there is no one better for me. I was yours the minute I touched your soul.”

And Dean doesn’t know what to say at the admission so he does what he always does, when words don’t come to him.

He presses his lips to Cas, tasting him as if he is for the first time and he presses his groin against him, pushing upwards and creating friction. Cas gaps and ruts against him, and then they’re pulling down each other’s pants and underwear, their cocks resting heavy, and hard against their thighs.

“Come on, Cas.” He breathes as Cas palms him, slow and teasing. He casts Dean a look and it’s soft and it’s how Cas looks at him, all the frigging time and Dean feels like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“I’m ready.” He says, pulling Cas’s hands towards his legs.

Cas kisses him once, before dragging a pillow and placing it beneath him. He pushes Dean’s legs against his body and Dean suddenly feels vulnerable.

Cas takes his time to rub his palms against Dean’s thighs and occasionally placing kiss, “It’s okay.” He whispers with each touch.

His thighs shudder as Cas kisses, then licks near the sensitive skin of his perineum, murmuring “I’ve got you, Dean.” And he sinks his tongue inside Dean, and Dean lets out a groan. Cas’ hands come to hold the underside of his thighs as his tongue continues to work him open.

He leaves Dean whimpering on the bed, coming back a few seconds with a dip on the bed and then—

“Jesus Christ.” His hips arch forward as Cas presses his finger inside of him, his throat bob as he comes forward and kisses Dean. It’s messy and their teeth class as Dean’s caught off-guard when Cas presses another finger inside of him, burying deep till his knuckles.

They’re firm and slim and they move inside of him with a rhythm. Dean pushes against them, savoring the pain induced pleasure.

“I’m ready.” He groans out just as Cas starts scissoring, while mouthing at Dean’s chest, taking his time with each movement. ”Cas, God, I’m ready.”

He feels Castiel smile more than he sees him and his stomach tickles where Cas’ huffs a laugh, “Though I appreciate the compliment, I’m not God.”

It’s one second from here to the next moment—or so Dean feels— and then Cas’ teasing is stopped by the him entering Dean, in one slow motion, and _Jesus Christ._

He feels himself stretching around him, the ache and pleasure mixing and it’s a feeling he’d like to get used to.

Cas is steady at first but then he’s moving further inside, hands tightening around Dean’s thighs and breathing out, “Dean, you feel so good.”

Cas moves, his hips pressing close and then sliding away in slow but long thrusts and Dean’s nails dig into his back, “More, Chri—Cas.”

Cas shifts, changing his angle and Dean groans at the welcomed sting of pleasure. He feels full, full of Cas, full of happiness and all the other sensations as Cas fucks into him.

“What do you need Dean?” Cas asks him, one of him hand palming Dean’s dick. It lies glistening and leaking in his hand, and the sight of Cas licking head with his tongue and pressing hard is what it takes for Dean to come, shooting white strips all over Cas’ face.

Cas licks his lips, and Dean groans while moving forward. He tastes himself on Cas maps at his lips and thrusts himself back until Cas comes soon, hands clutches tightly around Dean’s hips and whispering, “I love you, I love you, I love—“  

 

Dean lies on the bed after the high, spent and body aching all over. Cas lies next to him, one arm draped on Dean’s chest and no movement at all that he thinks he’s fallen asleep. He turns and places his head at the junction of Cas’ shoulder and neck. Cas, tilts his head to give him space.

“I love you too, you know.” Dean breathes out there, where no one can hear him except for Cas.

One of Cas’ hands comes to lie in Dean’s hair and he massages him. He places a gentle kiss on the side of his head. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God, this is the first time I wrote porn...  
> Hope it wasn't bad.
> 
>  
> 
> Check out my other works, if you liked it though!


End file.
